


Novocaine

by aromatisse



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship, thats. literally it i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 05:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3197312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aromatisse/pseuds/aromatisse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is too tired to separate the platonic from the romantic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Novocaine

It's four in the morning, and Claire and Sam are fast asleep. Dean couldn't be more jealous. He _should_ be able to snooze right away, because he never gets any sleep. He never has this problem. Yet, no matter how comfortable he thinks he is, he ends up tossing and turning and flipping his pillow to the cool side, over and over again. His mind races, thinking about the Mark, and Jimmy Novak, Sam, and Claire, and most of all, Cas.

Why Cas?

He guesses that's why he's thinking about him. He's thinking about thinking about him... Or, whatever. Castiel has become a sort of mental pacifier to him; a soothing thought to calm him when he can gather his head enough to try calming down at all. It's mostly the sleepless nights, much like tonight, that he needs the mental image of his angel. He imagines his pretty blue eyes gently boring into him, accompanying a slight smile. A Cas smile. Awkward but sincere, no teeth required.

So Dean stares at the ceiling, giving up on sleep. And he thinks.

_What is Cas to me_ _?_

"Um, Dean--"

His senses are too hyperactive to be surprised at the raspy voice coming from the doorway.

"I'm... sorry if I woke you--"

"You didn't. Can't sleep anyway." is Dean's gruff reply. He sits up in the bed and clears his throat.

Cas waddles closer. "Can I talk to you?"

Dean gives a drained, grainy chuckle. "Depends," he says, "but sit down."

So he waits until the bed dips beside him to turn and look at Castiel. It's dark.

"Turn on that lamp over there," he drawls. Cas complies, as per usual.

After a quiet  _click,_ the room lights up. A little. A fading bulb isn't much compliment to poor, sleepless Dean; it illuminates the dark circles forming under his eyes and especially highlights his deflated, ratty hair. Cas, though... his eyes are wet and big, and his hair is even more a mess than Dean's, but it's somehow the most endearing he's ever been. And when Dean's vision snags on  _his_ old AC/DC shirt, he nearly cries. _This_ Castiel is causing him too many unholy thoughts at too late in the night.

"So, um, I'm worried about Claire." Cas's voice pulls him right back down to Earth.

"Huh? Oh, she'll come around."

A frown. "I don't know if you get it, Dean," he says, "but Claire is my vessel's daughter, and he's  _dead_ , and it's because of  _me_. She doesn't have to 'come around.'"

Dean's eyebrows knit together. "Listen, I guess I don't. Honestly? Claire is apparently old enough to make her own decisions, because no one's really there to stop her, you know? Give her a good talk tomorrow, in a few hours, and weigh the pros and cons of staying with us. She'll stay. Because she's got beef with you." _  
_

There's a good minute of shared silence until Castiel relaxes a little more. He sighs.

"Nothing can be done right now," he says slowly, almost to himself.

"Right," Dean agrees.

Neither of them speak for a while. It should be awkward and unsettling, but it isn't. It just feels nice, both of them sitting beside each other, blanking out together as the fan drowns out their deep breaths.

Cas starts to shuffle above the sheets. "Well... I guess I should be going. Thanks for--"

Yet again, Dean interrupts Cas. "Hold on,"

He grabbed his hand as he was sliding off the bed.

Cas tints red when he realizes.

Dean releases it immediately, equally pink. "You can stay here. We're both having a rough night. I could enjoy the company." 

 _Dammit_ _,_ he calls his own horrible attempt as subtlety, _that was definitely too much_.

Castiel smiles, nonetheless. It's warm and lets him know,  _you did alright._

"Of course, Dean."

In one fluid motion, it feels like, Cas switches off the lamp, drapes the blankets over himself and Dean, and slides down onto the pillow. Flabbergasted, Dean mimics him. It's kind of weird, because he's facing Castiel's back, which kind of puts them in an almost-spooning position, but he doesn't really want to face the  _other_ way because he's actually really enjoying this almost-spooning. Just as he shuts his eyes at last, peacefully, his angel twists to look at him.

"I forgot something," he whispers. 

Dean can't see it coming, but their lips touch instantaneously, and it's over before Dean can reciprocate. Cas returns to his original direction proudly, grasping Dean's hand and draping his arm over his waist, and their fingers intertwine like it's routine.

Dean only lays there, paralyzed, overjoyed, confused, thinking even  _more_ now, like, how long has he wanted to do that? And, can he feel my dick because it's kind of hard now?

So he buries his face in Cas's mop of black hair and shuts off his brain happily for once, and  _finally_ gets some rest.

**Author's Note:**

> idk lol im tired and this was soooo self-indulgent but maybe ppl will like it lmao  
> uhh anyway send me some destiel prompts in the comments if u want because im a ridiculous baby and i cant think on my own.  
> i guess this is my comeback after 10 months of nothing on another site uhhhhh ok ok goodnight for me then love yall thanks for reading my petty garbage!!!:)))


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